More Than Blood
by Cole224
Summary: An earlier meeting, and two small children to look after...these things, of course, change everything. Erik/Charles slash. Starts before First Class.
1. Chapter 1

This uses Scott's comic background(because I hated X-Men: Origins and still don't understand why they changed Scott's background when his was the easiest to tell) although he is much younger in this than he was in the comics when Xavier found him. Alex might show up in this since it's still set with the First Class movie but since I'm using Scott's comic background and Alex is Scott's little brother in the comics, I'm not sure…

It starts a while before First Class started, with a different, and earlier meeting between Charles and Erik. It will be slash because I still think Charles and Erik(whether it's the comics, cartoons, earlier movies, or this one) are made for each other, even when they're enemies…

I don't own anything

_Lily Potter was halfway to being drunk when the man sat down next to her. The small muggle establishment was crowded, the air heavy, at least to her. The decision to drown her sorrows had been a spontaneous one, one she hadn't second guessed because she couldn't. _

_It had been two days. Two days since she had been officially been made a widow. _

_Sirius had downed a bottle of Firewhiskey two days ago and Remus had helped him. She had held off but only just. And here she was, with a glass of regular old whiskey clasped in her hands because she didn't want to go to a wizarding place and get recognized. She didn't want to see the pitying looks or the disappointed ones that she, of all people, would choose this route. _

_Then he'd sat down next to her and started talking to her. He looked to be barely out of high school but had assured her, with a smile, that he was old enough, even if that smile made him look years younger. _

_Lily let him speak because he was cute and smart and everything James wasn't. Because she was lonely and heartbroken and couldn't think straight. Because he didn't look at her like she was going to break into a thousand pieces at any moment. _

_He was already more than halfway to being drunk when he started talking to her and by the time they left the bar together, they both could hardly stand. _

_He offered a first name-Charles-she did the same and everything after was a bit of a blur. _

_It was only later that she remembered the fertility potion she'd been taking so that she could conceive with James. It was even later when she panicked about how her child would look and how everyone would know. And she didn't even know the man's last name. If he'd told her, she couldn't remember through the haze that surrounded that night. _

_She made the decision that no one would know and took another potion, this one specifically designed to make it so her child looked like the son of the man she would tell everybody he was. James Potter's son. _

_Xxxxxxxxxxx_

Harry Potter wasn't sure when it had started. It all sort of blurred together after awhile. And the words being spoken to him, and the things he heard bled into one for so long that he could never pinpoint when it has started.

He only knew about the reactions.

His aunt and uncle didn't like him. He'd known that for as long as he could remember. He hadn't known why. They didn't hurt him physically but they did give him the cupboard under the stairs to sleep in and denied him meals when he did something wrong. He hadn't known that there was anything abnormal about this until he'd gone to school and met other children besides Dudley.

The violence hadn't started until _it _had started. He still hadn't figured out what it was…and he'd asked a question. When he asked his aunt Petunia how he'd gotten the scar on his forehead.

_"In the accident when your parents died. Now, don't ask questions!" _But his aunt had kept talking, and she'd kept doing it without moving her lips. _Bloody-stupid-bitch-had-to-go-and-dump-the-little-ingrate-on-me-had-to-go-and-get-herself-blown-up-_

"Blown up?!" Harry had spoken before he could think to stop himself. "You said…" But he trailed off at the look on his aunt's face, at the way that she scrambled away from him, tipping her chair over in the process.

She screeched at him to go to his cupboard. When Uncle Vernon came home, that was the first time that the man used his belt. A steady stream of hatred and _freak, abnormal, _and several other insults pounded through his head but his uncle never opened his mouth either.

Xxxxxxxx

It happened several times more after that and Harry learned not to answer, not to respond to anything they said unless he could actually see their lips moving. But he learned a lot. They hated him because he wasn't normal. The words _wizards, magic, _and several other words that sometimes didn't sound like words at all swirled through his head in his Aunt's voice, always tinged with fear and loathing.

Xxxxxxxx

He went to school and it was worse. He knew the answers to every question the teachers asked before anyone raised their hands. He never raised his hand, at least not after the first couple of weeks, not after he learned that getting better marks than Dudley meant more punishments.

He knew what they all thought of him. The other children, too. Children, he learned, could be just as nasty and hateful as his relatives.

Xxxxxxxx

The older he got, the worse it got. He wasn't just hearing his relatives anymore. But everyone. He could hear it when the man across the street slapped his wife for burning his dinner. He could hear Mrs. Figg baby talking her cats. He could hear the nosy neighbors next door and all that gossip they so loved.

He sat in his cupboard with his hands covering his ears in a futile attempt to block it all out, and wished for someone to take it away.

_Make-it-stop-make-it-stopmakeitstop!_

Xxxxxxxx

He was only eight when it got worse than just hearing things he wasn't supposed to. Dudley and Piers were chasing him and Harry could see what they were planning. Pictures of the beating Dudley wanted to dole out.

Harry's mantra changed course then. He wanted-needed-this to stop too. Without knowing what he was doing, he made it happen. He lost himself, stumbling as he did so, plunging into something he didn't fully understand.

_STOP _

Dudley and Piers froze mid-run. Harry stood and watched as they frowned, stared at him a moment, and then wondered off. He tried desperately for several minutes to convince himself it hadn't been him that had caused that.

It didn't work.

Xxxxxxxxx

His relatives were afraid. They were terrified of something, of the strange things. Harry lay on his cot in his cupboard, his back aching from his uncle's latest attempt to beat whatever it was out of him and, for the first time, he reached out with it.

Dudley was upstairs, dreaming that he was caught in some movie that he'd watched earlier in the day about witches and flying monkeys.

His uncle was asleep as well, his dreams even less pleasant. Harry cringed when he realized that Vernon was dreaming of the beating he'd given Harry before heading to bed. Only, in his dream, he went further. Harry saw his own dead body at his uncle's feet.

The utter hatred that welled up in Harry was a new thing and he wanted-desperately-to cause his uncle the type of pain that he'd caused Harry. He didn't know how he did it, all he knew was that his uncle's dream shifted and the dead Harry from his dream got up off the ground. Beaten and bloody, he attacked Vernon.

Vernon woke up screaming.

Afterwards, Harry threw up everything he'd managed to eat that day, the lingering feelings still present. He wanted to jerk away from them. From that horrible hatred.

Xxxxxxxx

He was barely nine when Vernon decided he'd had enough. Dudley was chasing him again because apparently that silent command had only worked for the one time and Harry hadn't tried it again. It was scary. It had terrified him and he didn't want it.

But he was already in enough pain that it hurt terribly just to run and Dudley didn't intend on stopping this time until he had broken something. Harry wasn't aware of what he was doing until it was over.

For a moment, he wasn't in his own head anymore but he wasn't practiced, didn't know what he was doing, so he tore through Dudley's mind violently. Dudley stopped, fell, screamed, and then went silent all within the space of seconds.

When Dudley got back up off the ground, he was not the same boy he had been when he'd been running.

Xxxxxxxxx

They called it brain damage in confused voices. Dudley was rocking in the hospital bed, mumbling gibberish and the doctors could find no wounds, but were insistent on the fact that it was brain damage.

Harry thought he might be sick again.

Vernon dragged him back to the house and when he was finished with Harry, he was sure he had at least one broken bone. He was thrown into the cupboard with the last lingering thought from Vernon that he wasn't going to be let out alive this time.

Xxxxxxx

Erik lehnsherr sighed but the smirk didn't leave his face when he stepped out of the car and stared a moment at the mansion before him. "Of course." He shook his head at the sight of the place, and wondered why he was surprised.

He hesitated briefly before starting towards the door, for a moment considering getting in his car and driving back the way he'd come. But he'd driven all the way here and the need hadn't left yet.

And there it was. That incomprehensible need to see the man who owned this mansion that had cropped up in him on several occasions in the year or so since he'd met Charles Xavier in a bar. It still confused the hell out of him.

This time, however, when he'd tried to get in touch with Charles, the younger man had not been at his apartment just a few blocks away from where he taught at the university. He had been further surprised when he had been informed that Charles had taken a leave of absence. Raven had been the one to give him this address.

Now, Erik was a bit angry and he refused to give name to the emotion that fueled the new anger. It most definitely was not hatred. _Worry maybe? _Erik shook his head and knocked on the door. Though, he had to admit that it was unlike Charles, at least what he knew of the man. Charles was certainly devoted to his work.

Charles opened the door only a minute later and smiled brightly at the sight of him, which never failed to surprise him either. That another person's eyes could light like that at his presence, like they were happy to see him…

"Erik! It is great to see you! Come in." He allowed Erik to pass him and closed the door.

"Raven said you were here…and that you'd taken a leave?" Erik raised an eyebrow and Charles shrugged but didn't lose his grin.

"I just needed a break. You know, I do not think I have even taken a vacation since I started work."

"That is not a surprise," Erik answered wryly. "In fact, when I spoke to one of your colleague friends, he seemed shocked that you had taken off. In fact, he seemed downright concerned."

"He is overreacting. But it is always good to see you, my friend." His smile slipped after a moment, and a frown formed on his face. "Have you made any progress in your quest?"

"Not yet," Erik answered shortly, unwilling to get into another conversation, or debate about his intentions.

Charles opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his gaze shifted to something past Erik. Erik followed his gaze and, once again, Charles Xavier surprised him. A small child stood in the doorway leading to the hall they were standing in, one tiny hand gripping the frame.

He was clutching a blanket in the other. His dark red hair had fallen across his forehead but not enough to conceal the fact that he had his eyes tightly squeezed shut. Charles held up a hand before Erik could voice his surprise and walked swiftly over to the child, kneeling before him.

Erik witnessed what he guessed was a silent conversation before he heard a timid, shy voice speak up. "I couldn't sleep."

Several more seconds of silence before Charles picked the boy up. The child clung to him like he would a parent and Charles turned briefly to Erik. Charles voice sounded in his head. _If you would wait for me in my study, I will explain everything in a moment._

A 'moment' turned out to be a little over half an hour and Erik was all ready to tear into Charles but stopped when the man finally returned. Charles was still smiling, but it was strained and Erik could see wariness and concern shining in his expressive blue eyes.

"What is going on here, Charles?" He settled on, keeping his voice level.

Charles sat down and gestured to the chair across from him. Erik followed suit after a pleading look and Charles sighed, sinking deeper into his seat.

"I found him on the street. He had been there for a while, and had nowhere else to go. I could not leave him there." He paused. "He is like us…only he cannot control his mutation. Powerful blasts that emit from his eyes whenever they are open."

Erik's eyes widened slightly. "He can't turn it off?"

"No, he cannot." Charles sighed and ran a hand over his face. "He was….terrified when I found him and only let me near because of my own gift."

"But how did you find him?" Erik pressed.

Charles hesitated. "Do you remember a couple of months ago when I told you of the connection I felt? The presence."

"Yes," Erik answered, recalling that night. Charles had been drinking heavily, and had told Erik about it in a drunken slur, explaining further the next morning when Erik had pressed him about it.

"There is a connection," Charles stared off a moment. "This person, mutant, he has been calling to me for quite some time. I can feel the connection."

"He?"

"It has gotten stronger. I know more now. The one reaching out for me is a child, nine years old, a mutant…"

"And you thought it might be this child?" Erik tilted his head towards the door.

"I was grasping at straws, perhaps. Scott is the same age and a mutant…but the presence is still there and it is not Scott. Still, I could not very well leave Scott, blind and on the streets to fend for himself."

"Of course you couldn't," Erik said, a fondness in his voice that he had not displayed for anyone else in years.

Charles stood abruptly. "How long will you be staying?" There was an actual tone of hopefulness to his voice.

"I am not sure this time." His last lead had turned into a dead end and he didn't know where to look from there. Not yet, anyway.

Charles bright smile came back. "I think that I should get some sleep. Tomorrow I will have to deal with the legal matters involving Scott being here. It truly is good to see you, Erik."

Xxxxxxxx

_No-please-make-it-stop-I-can't-please-HELP!_

It was the last cry, loud and forceful, that woke Erik with a jerk. He lay still for a moment but only for a moment. The voice was still calling out in his head and Erik stood. _Charles. _Erik followed that voice down the vast hallway of the mansion until he got to the room he was sure was Charles' and opened the door without knocking and switched on the light.

The sight before him was a familiar one. Charles was twisted in his sheets, a grimace of pain on his face. Erik had often found Charles like this, on the rare occasions that he stayed with the man.

In fact, Erik sometimes wondered if Charles ever slept without nightmares, most of which were not his own. Erik wondered briefly whose nightmare Charles was having now. Isolated as the mansion was, it could have been Scott's, or his own. That had happened before.

Then again, Erik knew that Charles' reach was vast when he brought down his barriers. Erik strode quickly over to the bed and leaned over Charles, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Charles." He squeezed. "Charles, wake up." He repeated the command in his mind, projecting the thought in a way that Charles had taught him only a couple of months after they had first met. In a way that he said he could hear even if he were actively trying to stay out of Erik's head. It worked, as it always did and Charles jerked in his grip, automatically trying to draw away from him until he caught Erik's eyes.

"Erik…" Charles reached up, and fisted a hand in his shirt. "Erik, I know where he is."


	2. Chapter 2

There was something there, something needling at him, even in his state. Harry didn't move, couldn't really. He had no idea how long he had been lying in his own blood but it had to have been a while.

But there was still something there. He could feel it, even over the pounding in his head. _Someone was coming_…

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Are you sure about this?" Erik repeated the question, staring up at the nondescript house before him.

"You did not have to come," Charles pointed out, striding towards the front door of the house.

Erik shrugged. "I was curious," he said and then smirked a bit. "I don't think I have ever seen you so…rattled."

Charles gave him a mildly disgruntled look and stopped at the door of the house, without knocking. Erik could see that the lights were out and there were no cars in the drive.

"No one is home," he stated after a moment but Charles ignored him, placing the tips of his fingers on the wood of the door. Erik watched as his expression became pained.

"Charles?"

"Open the door," Charles requested after a second, the look in his eyes darkening by the second.

"You want to break into a strangers house?" Erik asked in surprise. Charles turned his blue eyes on Erik and the look in them nearly knocked Erik breathless.

"Please."

Erik nodded and reached out with his power. The lock clicked a second later. Charles didn't wait, instead grasping the knob and entering the house. It was well kept, clean but empty of people.

Charles ignored the surroundings, instead walking quickly over to the stairs and to what looked like a closet under them. He unlocked it and opened the door. The sound he made when he did so had Erik going over to him in concern.

What he saw nearly made him gag. The first thing he noted was the blood, it covered the small form huddled on a cot in the tiny space. The child was even smaller than Scott and, from the smells, had been left in the small space for a while.

Charles looked as if he were going to physically ill as he knelt next to the cot and his blue eyes were brighter than before, pained. Erik looked to the child when he heard a groan and the one eye that was not swollen shut flickered open.

Xxxxxxxxx

Harry felt him_. _Barely able to move, in so much pain that he could hardly think, he still felt that presence. He hardly noticed when the door to the cupboard was opened but he felt it grow stronger.

He tried to open his eyes, but only one of them seemed to be working. Through blurry vision, Harry saw two dark forms there. His first instinct was to shy away, and he might have flinched back if he could move but then a soothing voice sounded in his head.

_I am not here to hurt you. I only wish to help._

The voice wasn't like the others. The others all ran together in a constant stream of thought. This was different. Through the fuzziness, Harry tried to respond. _Who are you? _He thought he'd said the words.

_My name is Charles and I have come to help you _

Harry's head swam. Help? How could anyone…people had tried before. One of his teachers had tried, he remembered, but it had only led to more punishments, more pain. No, maybe this was better. That he should be left here to die. Then at least the pain would stop.

_No, dear one, _the voice sounded again, soft, soothing, _that is not an option._

Harry tried to fight it, that voice. Once again, it was a natural reaction after everything he'd been through but this voice was different, impossible to fight against.

_It is alright. Sleep, dear one._

The endearment was probably what did it, something he'd never heard before, something that was coming from what he had thought was a stranger. But the presence was so soothing and Harry felt like it should have been there all along. It was a strange feeling, like he'd just gained something he had been missing before and he finally gave in to the suggestion.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Charles felt it as the child fell asleep, succumbing to his suggestion. He straightened and turned to Erik, about to suggest a hospital but Erik had already beaten him to it. He was hanging up a phone on the table near the couch in the living room.

Things happened quickly after that and it wasn't too long after that Charles and Erik were in a waiting room. Erik's jaw had been clenched so tightly throughout that it was a wonder he hadn't broken any teeth.

"Do you know who did this?" He asked, eyes flashing.

"I believe his relatives. I did not see much but…" Charles tilted his head. "The connection is still there. There was a large man he identified as his uncle."

"Have you figured out how you heard him? I know how wide your range is, Charles, but to reach another country?"

Charles frowned and shook his head. "I have not figured that out yet."

"Sir?"

Charles and Erik both turned to face two police officers.

Xxxxxxxx

Panic was not an emotion that Albus Dumbledore felt often, or at all at his age. In fact, he hadn't felt such an emotion since he had been much, much younger. And yet he did feel it when he was alerted to the fact that the wards around Petunia and Vernon Dursley's home had fallen.

He'd gone there immediately. Albus had never felt his age more than he had then, after his investigation into why the wards had failed. The police had been called, and Petunia and Vernon were to be arrested after the discovery of their nephew, beaten and bloody and locked in a cupboard.

Petunia and Vernon were in a hospital when he found them, attending to their brain damaged son. Albus had been so disgusted, so angry after that he had barely held himself back from cursing the two.

Then the guilt had settled in. He had known that Harry would not have an easy time of it with his relatives but to go this far…and then there was the matter of what he had learned from why Vernon and Petunia had gone as far as they had.

Albus hurried towards the hospital, intent on finding Harry and taking him to a healer. He would never forgive himself for leaving the boy with such people.

Xxxxxxxx

Charles stared sadly down at the child. The boy was sleeping. The injuries to his back had been cleaned and bandaged and there was a cast on his wrist. He had hope that the monster that had done this to a child would be arrested soon.

Harry was too small, and the doctor had informed him that he was malnourished. The child was even smaller than Scott. Charles sat down in one of the chairs by the bed next to Erik. He would be there when the boy woke.

But he was troubled by something else as well. The boy's name. Harry Potter. "This is my child," he said quietly. He did not look over at Erik as he said it.

"What?"

Charles shifted and ran a hand over his face. He had felt guilty over that encounter before. Over the pretty, grieving, redhead.

"Potter is a name I know." He had gotten that from her head and he still remembered the encounter clearly. His memory had always been better than good. There had been times where he cursed that fact.

Charles told Erik of the encounter he'd had with Lily Potter. "It would explain the connection."

"Yes, I suppose it would."

Xxxxxxxx

Albus stopped in the open doorway of the hospital room and hesitated briefly. There was one other occupant in the room, asleep in a chair beside the bed. Albus could only guess that this was one of the young men that had found Harry.

He walked quietly over to the bed and then stopped, and stared down in confusion. The child sleeping there held very little likeness to the one Albus had dropped off at the Dursley's. Even at one and a half, Albus had been able to see that the boy had taken a great deal after his father. His hair and his features had reminded him so strongly of James, even at such a young age. And from all reports from Arabella, Harry had grown into those features until he was nearly the spitting image of his father.

But this child's hair was a light brown and, while it was messy at the moment, Albus was sure that was just because it hadn't been brushed. His face was more round than James', his nose a bit wider. All in all, this boy did not look anything like James.

Albus came out of his thoughts when the boy groaned and then opened his eyes. At least, his eyes were still the same vibrant green they had been as a baby. Putting aside the changes for the moment, he would look into it later, Albus bent towards the boy. His green eyes widened in fear and he tried to flinch away from Albus, only to wince in pain when a voice called from behind him.

"Who are you?"

Xxxxxxxxx

It was the sharp, sudden terror that woke Charles from his light doze. He very nearly fell from his seat at the feeling. He took a moment to compose himself and remember where he was and why…then spotted the man.

Charles stood. "Who are you?" He demanded but did not give the man time to answer. His first concern should have been the terror rolling off the boy. Charles went to the bed, relieved when the un-named man stepped back and allowed him room.

Charles bent towards Harry, putting his hands on either side of the boy's face. _Calm down, dear one. I am here. I will not let anyone harm you._

Charles was relieved when the child calmed almost instantly. The child stared up at him, reaching out with his mind and Charles met him halfway, so to speak. He sent out the positive emotions while assuring Harry that he was safe.

Charles had been so focused on the child's terror that he did not notice the changes until his green eyes slipped closed again. He froze in the act of straightening up and stared. The boy's hair was lighter, his features different. In fact, if it were not for the connection, he might have questioned if this was the same boy at all.

If Charles had had any doubts about his earlier revelation that this was his child, they were gone. Except for the fact that he was much too skinny, the boy in the bed was an image of him as a child.

Charles finally straightened and was about to turn towards the man when he felt someone trying to enter his mind. He brought his mental barriers down hard and literally shoved the other out. The other man standing in the room stumbled backwards.

Xxxxxxxx

Albus had been shocked to find out about the treatment Harry had suffered through at the hands of his relatives. He had been shocked at the physical changes in Harry. But he was most shocked at the young man, who had been sure was a muggle, that had been in the hospital room when he entered.

Albus watched as the young man calmed Harry. He said nothing, only put his hands on the boy's face and met his gaze for a few minutes. Still, Harry calmed almost immediately. It was quite astounding and Albus hadn't been able to help himself. He had reached out with his legitimacy.

It was then that he encountered shields so strong that they had to have been reinforced for many years and then he was thrown out of the young man's mind with enough force to make him stumble on his feet.

He had gained nothing except for the feel of the young man. And that feeling was that this man, although looking quite normal and very young, was very powerful.

"Who are you?" The man repeated and Albus. He brought a hand on his temple and Albus felt something against his occlumency shields. The touch was pulled out before Albus could even attempt to throw the other out.

"_What _are you?" He stood in a protective stance. "Your mind is shielded rather well."

"I should ask you the same,' Albus countered warily.

"I could tear through them, your shields," the young man said. "I expect it would cause you a great deal of pain though." Albus watched as he kept himself between the child and Albus.

"I came to see Harry," Albus started. "I was very sad to hear that his relatives could do something so…"

"You knew him and yet did not know he was being mistreated?"

"I have not seen him since he was a year old, when his mother died."

At this, and to Albus' surprise, the man's blue eyes grew sad. "His mother is dead?"

"You knew of her?"

The young man did not answer right way, however. His gaze slid past Albus to the door. "What's going on here?" A new voice asked and then another man walked into the room. Eyeing Albus, he walked over to stand beside the other.

"Perhaps you should explain yourself fully?" A raised eyebrow and Albus nodded reluctantly.

"Alright."

Xxxxxxx

There were voices talking around him. Harry kept his eyes closed. He felt heavy anyway. It was sort of like being stuck between real sleep and being fully awake. But the voices…he wanted to move, or to at least open his eyes to identify them.

He felt something else, however. The presence. The connection. Harry reached out towards it and it responded.

_I am here, dear one. Do not be afraid._

Harry relaxed some at the soothing words and tried again to open his eyes. It worked this time and Harry realized that the pain he had been feeling when he'd woken last was gone completely. He was only a little sore.

_Who are you?_ When he caught sight of the blue eyes watching him, the man leaning over him.

_My name is Charles Xavier. We have much to talk about but that can wait until you are fully recovered._

Harry sighed, his eyes closing. "Felt you coming…"

"Yes, dear one. I felt you calling."

Xxxxxxxxxx

There were not many things that could catch Charles Xavier off guard. After all his years with the ability to see into others thoughts, he had thought that he may have seen everything. His best friend could bend metal, and his sister could change her form into anyone she saw fit to.

But he found himself completely surprised at Albus Dumbledore's explanations. _Magic? _Charles had protested it until Dumbledore had displayed it. And, yes, he could do things that seemed impossible himself but he was of the firm belief that it was based in genetics, in evolution. It could be explained. This, however…

Erik had only raised an eyebrow at his surprise. "If I can deflect bullets and you can literally freeze people, why is this so hard to believe?"

Charles could only shake his head. Dumbledore had certainly provided enough proof so that, even if Charles was incredulous, he still believed it. Charles and Erik had provided their own proof, even if Erik looked downright mutinous, especially after Dumbledore had revealed that it had been he who had left the child with his abusive relatives.

"How exactly did you find Harry?"

Charles hesitated. Ah, yes, that question. "I had an encounter with Lily Potter when I was eighteen. She was grieving and distraught over the loss of her husband. I was…dealing with several things myself. I admit that I felt some guilt over what we did that night because of the state she was in."

Not that he hadn't picked up women before but Lily had not been in a good state of mind. The problem had been that neither had he. Alcohol hadn't helped matters. And he'd been young…

Dumbledore slumped in his seat. "Are you saying that you believe this child is yours?"

"How else would you explain the changes?" Charles asked, with a frown. "He looks nearly exactly as I did when I was a child."

The old man seemed to deflate further as he stared at the child. "And you wish to take care of him?"

"Yes, I do."

Dumbledore nodded, and Charles could see the regret, sadness shining in his eyes. "I wish to take him to see a magical healer. She will be able to heal him much quicker and in a much more painless way."

Charles, of course, agreed, with the condition that he and Erik were to stay by the boy's side.

Xxxxxxxxx

Charles watched as the lady bustled around the bed Harry was in, using what she and Dumbledore had called a wand. Erik looked angry beside him but Charles had come to the realization, after only knowing Erik a couple of months, that anger was his default emotion.

Charles watched with a certain amount of awe as she waved her wand, and rubbed an ointment into the wounds on Harry's back and they began to disappear at a rapid pace.

"And the changes?"

Charles perked up at this question, which came from Dumbledore.

"I don't know. The potion Lily must have taken should have been permanent. I have seen witches take it before, when they didn't want their husbands to know about their…indiscretions."

"Perhaps it is a result of his mutation." It was Erik, surprisingly, who suggested this.

"His mutation?" The woman, who had identified herself as Poppy Pomphrey asked.

"His is the same as mine," Charles said. "It deals with the mind, not the physical appearance."

"The blood wards fell," Dumbledore mused softly. "And you found him. Magic can be unpredictable at times…"

Xxxxxxxxxx

"After much thinking, much consideration, I do believe that you are right and that you will take care of Harry."

Charles, Erik, and Albus were sitting in an office, the healer's office because Charles refused to go too far from the child. He wanted-needed-to be there if the boy woke again.

"I have a couple of conditions."

Charles straightened. This was his child, a child he had only just found out about and that had sounded like a demand. Still, after witnessing what the old man in front of him could do, Charles would rather not fight him and he listened silently.

"Conditions?" It was Erik, instead, that spoke up.

"I wish to erect wards around your place of residence, wards that will hopefully ensure that no one but the people you specifically invite could enter your home."

Charles nodded at this. That was an easy enough addition to agree to. He did not want some unknown monster coming to claim his child.

"I also wish for Harry to be taught magic, and I would hope that he would learn this at Hogwarts."

Charles nodded yet again, but did not voice the promise. He would relay this to Harry, and he would give the child the choice. Harry should make his own choices in this matter. Dumbledore, though, seemed satisfied.

Xxxxxxx

Albus watched sadly as Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr left the small office. He had been a fool, leaving the child there. He had been so focused on the blood wards, on the idea that Voldemort would be back at some point, and that there were still Death Eaters out there that would love to do the boy harm that he had ignored things he shouldn't have.

The two young men stood close by in case the boy woke and Albus watched their whispered conversation. It was clear that Erik Lehnsherr was angry and clear, from the glare he'd shot Albus, just who he was angry with.

As he watched Charles Xavier reach for the sleeping boy's hand, a tender, protective expression on his face, Albus resolved to do everything in his power to make up for his mistakes concerning Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

Erik woke from the light doze when he very nearly fell from the chair he'd settled down in just an hour earlier. Irritated, he ran a hand over his face and then paused when he glanced towards one of the occupied beds in the room. The boy was awake, sitting up with his knees pulled up to his chest and watching him warily. Erik glanced briefly over to the one other occupied bed.

"I'd appreciate it if you would try and remain calm," Erik said first, wryly. "I had to threaten him with bodily harm to get him to sleep." He tilted his head to where Charles was sleeping. It was true. Charles hadn't slept since he'd figured out where the boy was, since that nightmare he'd had. The woman that had healed the boy had said she'd put some sort of silencing spell around the bed but Erik doubted that extended to Charles power, or the connection that he seemed to have with the child.

Erik knew Charles was worried. Not just for Harry either. Scott had clung to him and had looked rather devastated when Charles had told him that he was leaving for a few days.

"Okay," Harry answered quietly as well. He turned his gaze on Charles for a few moments, with a strange look in his eyes.

When he turned his gaze back on Erik, he seemed to be struggling with himself. Erik waited him out patiently, almost hoping that Charles would wake. He was much better at the act of comforting people.

Erik had no experience in such things. Charles was the first person he'd cared anything about since his mother had died. Hate filled and revenge seeking were not traits a child should emulate.

"Who do you hate?"

Erik's eyes widened slightly at the question, which served to remind him that the boy had inherited more than just his new looks from Charles.

"That is not something I am willing to discuss." Especially not with a child. He suppressed those thoughts of his own childhood.

The boy stilled and stared off into space a moment. "What did you mean by new looks? And I can see…"

"See?"

Harry nodded, his eyes wide. "I've always needed glasses…" He trailed off and Erik shifted. This was not a conversation he should be having. It should be Charles explaining all of this. He leaned forward.

"Calm down. I'll tell you what happened, alright?"

Xxxxxxxxxx

Some of the panic that had started to build in Harry died down at the promise of an explanation. He watched the man sitting near his bed carefully. Harry had never really understood the ability he had to hear all those things but over the years he had gotten somewhat of a feel for it, or at least, a feel for other people.

"My name is Erik Lehnsherr," the man started. "I would assume that you have already met Charles, in a sense?"

Harry blinked and vague memories of a calming presence, and a soothing voice telling him he was safe surfaced. He nodded. In fact, even at that moment, he still felt it. That presence and he could tell it was coming from the sleeping man.

"Charles and I found you at your relatives' house and brought you to be treated for your injuries."

Images surfaced, and Harry was aware enough that they were coming from the man, of him and the other arriving at his aunt and uncle's house, of them finding him in the cupboard. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm himself down at those memories.

"When do I have to go back?"

"Go back?" The words were incredulous. "You are not going back. Charles would never allow such a thing." _Neither-would-I-those-people-were-lucky-got-off-easy…_

Surprised, Harry didn't speak for a moment. The man's thoughts were still swirling at a rapid pace and Harry made an effort to push them back until they were a faint buzz at the back of his mind. Sometimes, it worked, if there weren't too many people around and the person wasn't feeling some strong emotion. If they weren't shouting, so to speak.

"I did something bad," he admitted after a moment. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as he remembered Dudley, staring vacantly and mumbling things that made no sense. He remembered the hatred he'd felt and the small, tiny little voice in the back of his head that said Dudley had gotten what he deserved. He recoiled from the very thought.

"No." The one word was stern and Harry looked over at the man again. "It doesn't matter what you think you did…no one deserves what those people did to you." Erik's tone left no room for argument and his expression matched.

Harry held his breath when he caught an image, startling in its clarity and in the emotion behind it, of an office and a man, smirking and evil…There was guilt and pain and anger…

Harry blinked several times, trying to clear the image and made the effort to once again push the steady stream of thoughts coming from Erik to the back of his mind. Still, after he managed that, he looked over at the man in wonder.

There was understanding there, in that man and Harry finally relaxed fully. That was about the time the connection grew stronger and Charles woke up.

Xxxxxxxxx

Erik had sat back in his seat, content to let Charles explain where he'd left off. He did watch the child throughout, however. The boy sat quietly through it. Well, he did not say anything out loud but Erik was observing a conversation between two telepaths... It was only when Charles had stopped after a brief explanation of where they were that the boy spoke up.

"What does it have to do with me not needing glasses or…" he turned his gaze briefly to Erik. "He said something about…that I look different…"

Charles hesitated briefly. "I had an encounter with your mother, Lily, shortly after her husband died…" Charles must have elaborated further silently because the boy very suddenly scrambled away from him, stumbling when he made it to his feet.

Erik raised an eyebrow and straightened in his seat. "You're lying," the boy said, a swell of anger rising behind the words.

"No, Harry, I am not." Charles stood as well but made no move to get closer to the boy. His expression had become almost painful to look at.

"You are! You have to be!" The boy's breathing picked up and Erik stood as well, concerned. Harry had moved off the bed on Erik's side. But the kid wasn't going into a panic attack. He was angry. He was trembling with it.

Xxxxxxxx

Despite his protests, Harry could see the truth of it in Charles Xavier's mind. But it couldn't be. _It wasn't fair! _The childish thought rang through his head, entirely his own and he didn't notice when the two men winced, unaware that he had projected the thought. There was a man standing before him, claiming to be his father, claiming that he had the same ability and that he could help Harry control it.

He felt something shining in that connection, emotions that had never been directed towards him by an adult. And even the other man…his thoughts were tinted with concern now.

And there were several emotions trying to rise up in him. Despair over hearing how his mother and the man he had thought was his father had truly died, fear and sadness over what he'd endured at the hands of his aunt and uncle, guilt over what he'd done to Dudley and over that tiny part of him that had wanted to do worse to his uncle, but they were all drowned out by the blinding anger.

"Life is rarely fair." When the words registered, Harry stilled. It was Erik that had said them. There was a sad, knowing look in his eyes and it served to calm some of Harry's anger. "You are still young, yet though. And Charles does care for you."

"Then why wasn't he there?" His anger died completely as he asked it.

"If I had known…" Charles' expression was pained, guilty. He stepped closer to Harry and knelt to his level. "If I had known, dear one, I assure you I would have been."

Harry's eyes burned and then he was crying. Charles reached for him and before he could move away, the man had pulled him into an embrace. The connection grew stronger and all he could find in it was concern and love. He clung to Charles in response.

Xxxxxxxx

"This is unreal." Harry leaned closer to the mirror, studying his new reflection. He couldn't figure out which was more so, his changed appearance or the magic he'd seen Poppy Pomphrey display when she'd come to look him over and make sure he was healed.

He was…overwhelmed, to say the least, and a bit embarrassed about his outburst. He sat back on the bed and swung his legs a moment. He'd promised himself he wouldn't cry the last time Dudley and his friends had gotten hold of him when he'd realized that they liked it when he did.

He hadn't been able to help himself, though, not when he saw the truth of what Charles had been saying. _The man was his father. _He'd tried imagining his parents before, of course. He'd never even known what they looked like, though.

This wasn't something he'd imagined, however. This man had come for him as soon as he could, and Harry had seen the truth of it when he'd said he would have sooner if he had known. Couldn't hide in your thoughts, after all, couldn't lie. Harry knew that for a fact. It was one thing that this ability had shown him.

He was brought out of his own thoughts when the hospital door opened and in walked both Erik and Charles, followed by a much older man that Harry hadn't met yet. Despite how overwhelmed, shocked he might have been, he still smiled. It wasn't just because of Charles either. He found that, even after only after a short conversation, he _liked _Erik as well.

"Hello there, Harry," the older man spoke, smiling down at him. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of this school."

"Hello."

"Ready then?" Charles asked him.

"Ready for what?"

"To go home, of course," Charles answered with a smile of his own, his blue eyes shining. He offered a hand and Harry couldn't help but to take it, smiling hesitantly himself.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Whoa!" Harry was still clutching Charles' hand when they arrived at the biggest house he'd ever seen in his life. Charles smiled down at him before turning to Dumbledore.

"I think I will go and show him around."

"I'll stay here," Erik said, still eyeing Dumbledore with distrust. Charles only shook his head before leading Harry into the house.

"This is where you grew up?" Harry asked in wonder as he looked around the place. Charles led him deeper in.

"Yes. I think you will have to pick out a room, perhaps next to Scott's?"

Harry stared up at him. He'd seen Scott briefly in Charles' thoughts when the man had been explaining things to him. "I get my own room?"

"Of course. We certainly have enough of them here," Charles said wryly. It was when they turned into what Charles had told him was a study that they found the two other people. The first was a blonde girl that Charles identified as his sister. The second was a boy Harry's age sitting next to her.

"Hello, Scott," Charles started. "It is very good to see you. I hope you and Raven have been getting on well."

The boy turned towards Charles, although he kept his eyes closed. "You came back!"

"Of course I did," Charles said, the smile not leaving his face. "I promised, did I not?" He knelt as the other boy came over to them. "I'd like you to meet someone, Scott. This is Harry." Through his connection to Charles, Harry saw that Charles had sent his own images of Harry towards the other boy.

"Hi," Scott said, suddenly shy and moving a bit closer to Charles.

"Hello," Harry responded, studying the other boy. Charles' explanations on Scott's mutation made Harry a little sad and made him not want to curse his own so much. As much of a burden as it could be, and a headache, to hear everyone around him like that, at least he didn't have to blind himself to keep it at bay.

Scott was smiling shyly in his direction and Harry had never had friends his age before. Dudley had made sure of that. So, he glanced up at Charles before grabbing the other boy's hand that was not gripping Charles' trousers.

"Can we go play?" He asked earnestly after a moment.

"Of course. Just…be careful."

Harry nodded, before dragging Scott away from the adults.

Xxxxxxxxx

"This place is brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, tugging Scott after him through the halls of the massive house.

"Yeah," Scott answered, if a little hesitantly. Harry turned to him. He contemplated a moment. He'd gotten the feel of Scott's mind as well, even if he'd tried to do the polite thing and push the thoughts he was getting from the other boy to the back of his mind.

"You know," he started after a moment, "I got the same power as Charles. Maybe I could help you map the place."

Scott seemed to brighten, and Harry knew that he'd said the right thing, that Scott hated the fact that his ability left him blind, that it left him helpless…in his view, anyway.

"Really?"

"Sure." Harry shrugged, even if Scott couldn't see it. "We could start with your room then I can show you how to get places."

Xxxxxxxx

"Are you finished?" Charles asked when he made it outside the house to find Erik and Dumbledore waiting there.

"I believe I am," Dumbledore stated with a sigh. "I trust Harry is being looked after."

"He is with Scott at the moment." Charles followed the connection he had to the boy, tilting his head. "You need not worry. I can follow the connection anywhere. I will always be able to find him." He paused. "Do you wish to speak with him before you leave?"

Dumbledore paused, hesitated. "No, I do not think that will be necessary. I trust that he will be looked after. However, considering the events that led him to your care…I do hope you understand that I will be checking in on occasion."

Erik scowled at him but Charles only nodded. He recognized the words for what they were. The man was feeling guilty for not doing so when Harry had been with his aunt and uncle and he wanted to make up for it. He did not know Erik or Charles well, after all…It was only natural that he wanted to make sure that he did not make the same mistake twice. Charles could respect that.

"Alright."

Dumbledore offered a hand. "A good day to you, Professor Xavier."

"You as well, Professor Dumbledore." Charles smiled in kind and shook the man's hand. He watched as the man turned on his heel, walking down the drive before he disappeared with a loud crack.

For a minute, Charles and Erik stood side by side in the drive. Charles could practically hear the two small children occupying the house speaking to each other as they navigated the halls. And then Erik spoke up.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Charles?"

Charles only smiled in response.

Xxxxxx

So, I was thinking of how to incorporate Erik more into the family dynamic and liked the idea of Erik and Harry bonding over their crappy childhood's…which is why this is how this chapter turned out…


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so timelines are completely screwed in this fic. I'm simply pushing back Harry Potter so it takes place in the same timeline as X-Men First Class.

Xxxxxxx

He wasn't the only one not sleeping. Harry stood in the doorway of what he thought was Charles' living room. It was much bigger than the Dursley's. In fact, Charles' house was just plain huge.

Erik was sitting in the room alone, a book in his hands. For a moment, Harry simply watched the man, unsure if he should disturb him. Harry was never usually sure about adults. Most of the adults he knew were crueler than any child. But there was something about this adult that he had liked almost instantly.

"Are you going to remain in the doorway or would you like to come in?" Erik asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. Harry gave a start but, after a moment, he walked deeper into the room and settled himself down in the chair closest to Erik's.

"You should be in bed," Erik commented, setting aside his book.

"Can't sleep," Harry stated. He'd tried, really, after making the excuse of being tired to Charles. It hadn't exactly been a lie but the man had known it wasn't the entire truth. Of course he'd known. He could still feel that connection.

"What can you do?" Harry asked, shifting so he was sitting sideways on the chair, legs pulled up, back pressed against one arm.

Erik considered him for a moment before he held up a hand. Harry watched with interest as a small metal ornament floated up from the table in front of him and spun in the air, beginning to change. The piece flattened out before twisting into other shapes.

"Other people ever find out about it?" Harry asked carefully after Erik had closed his fist around the metal. He wondered again about the images he'd seen in Erik's mind earlier. But, after a moment, Erik did prove that you didn't need to be a mind reader to read between the lines.

"It rarely turns out well when other people find out."

"People are horrible."

"Not all of them," Erik responded immediately but even though Harry was actively trying to stay out of his head, the agreement was impossible to miss.

"Like you?" Harry asked.

"No. Like…Charles."

Harry chewed his lip and slouched further down into the chair. "He likes you a lot."

"You should get to sleep."

"Can I stay here?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Erik studied him a moment again, and Harry saw a brief hint of surprise. "If you want."

Xxxxxxx

Charles rubbed at hand over his face tiredly as he made his way downstairs. He'd woken from yet another nightmare, Scott's this time and it had taken a while to soothe the child. He was further worried when he discovered the Harry had not been in his own room.

He had known Harry was overwhelmed, that he was having a difficult time dealing with all the information that had been dumped on him over the past couple of days. He had avoided talking about it with Charles the day before and Charles hadn't pressed the boy.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped short when he heard Harry's loud voice. He did not reach out with his power, but even without doing so, he knew that Erik and Harry were both in the living area. When he stepped into the doorway, he was initially nothing but surprised.

Erik was sitting on the edge of the chair he usually sat in when he and Charles played chess. Harry was standing a few feet in front of Erik while nearly everything in the room that had some sort of metal in it swirled rapidly around in the air, circling the child.

"How does it work?" Harry asked, a smile of delight on his face.

"I am sure Charles can give you a long explanation about genetics but the only way that I can describe it is that I feel it. I am…connected to it."

Harry nodded. "I get it. I don't even have to reach out with mine to feel people. Everyone feels different too."

"Yes, Charles has described something similar in the past."

Harry nodded, his smile not fading as the objects settled back in their places and Harry looked up to spot Charles.

"Hello," Harry said, suddenly becoming shy again but Charles only smiled warmly at him.

"Hello, Harry."

"Well…I guess I'll go try to sleep again." Harry started out of the room. "Thanks, Erik!" He called as he skirted past Charles.

Charles smile only faded a bit at the action. "You are getting on well." Erik glared at him and Charles held up his hands, amusement plain. But his smile did die completely after a moment. "You will be leaving soon." It wasn't a question.

"I will," Erik confirmed.

Charles was momentarily saddened by this. "I wish you would allow me to help you, Erik."

"No," Erik said sharply, his glare strengthening. "I have told you before, Charles. Do not get involved." He stood, started out of the room as well. "You have others to look after now. Focus on that."

Charles watched him go before he gave a sad sigh, sat down, and wondered again why he always felt such profound loss whenever Erik left.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Come on." Harry kept a grip on Scott's hand as he navigated them both through the hedges in Charles' massive front lawn.

"What are we doing?" Scott asked.

"We're…staying out of the house," Harry admitted with a grimace that Scott couldn't see. Scott hadn't actually wanted to leave the house at first but Harry had convinced him. At the moment, Charles and Erik were playing chess and arguing.

"Charles isn't happy," Harry stated with a frown. He could see that clearly. The expression on Scott's face told exactly how he felt about that.

"Why?"

"Erik's leaving," Harry stated and then started pulling Scott with him again. He wasn't happy about that either. He liked Erik, and being left in the giant house with only Charles and Scott was a scary thought.

It wasn't that he didn't like Charles either but everything had just happened too fast. His uncle, Charles, Erik, magic, mutants…Charles was his _father. _Harry's stomach rolled. He used to try and imagine his parents.

He'd always thought he knew their names, at least. Petunia had never said them out loud but her thoughts often revolved around her hatred for them whenever Harry was around her. James and Lily Potter.

It was hard sometimes, to pick out the thoughts tainted by Petunia's hatred and he was sure that the images of Lily Potter were tainted by it, but he'd figured out some things. It gave him an idea, of fantasy maybe, of who his parents had been. Turned out, though, that he was wrong.

"Let's go out further," Harry said to Scott and really tried not to think about that stuff anymore.

Xxxxxxxxx

Charles was not surprised by Harry's reactions. The boy had clung to him at the hospital, at first and stuck close even when they had first arrived to his home but then he had been given time to think.

He had tried speaking with Harry but was unwilling to push the child. It was several hours after Erik had left that he found Harry sitting on the floor in front of the same table where Charles' chess set had been earlier in the day with a large book open before him.

"A dictionary?" Charles asked curiously when he approached the boy. Harry jumped and then blushed.

"Yeah…"

Charles nodded and, after only a brief hesitation, sat down cross-legged on the floor as well. "When I was a child, I wanted to carry one around with me."

Harry stared at him a moment, eyes wide. "I hear so many things."

"Yes, I know."

Harry chewed his lip. "Is it possible to block it all out? I mean, sometimes I can push it back. Except some stuff still gets through."

"I can help you build up your barriers. But some things will always get through."

Harry nodded, only looked mildly disappointed. "Do you know other languages?" He asked.

"Yes."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Can you teach them to me?"

"If you wish," Charles answered, smiling.

"Thanks."

"There is no need for that. I will teach you anything that I can. All you need to do is ask."

For the first time since they had arrived at the mansion, Harry gave Charles a bright, genuine smile.


	5. Chapter 5

"How come you don't hate this place?"

Harry blurted the words out mid-speech, in the middle of one of Charles' speeches. In the middle of one of the many times that Charles had set aside to teach him how to build up his barriers. Charles only sighed at the question. He didn't ask what Harry meant. Of course, he didn't need to.

"It is…simply a place."

Harry shook his head. "No. You should hate it." Harry knew it. Thought it. These little sessions had revealed more about the man across from him. More about his family. About his mother, his stepfather, his stepbrother. "I hated it." And he knew Charles would know what he was talking about too. Because he had, did, hate his uncles house.

"I should," Charles finally conceded. "I suppose you are right. But hatred is such a wasteful emotion. Why should I still hate a man who is long dead? Who saved my life as his final act?"

Harry only shook his head again. He didn't get it. He didn't get Charles. "You forgave them." It wasn't a question. Harry had seen that. He'd seen the hell Charles' family had put him through, and he'd seen the forgiveness as well.

"Yes. I believe that it is the only way to find peace."

Harry nodded, looked down. He tried to imagine not hating his own family. He tried to imagine not being angry for Petunia's lies, Vernon's belt, Dudley's fists….He tried to imagine not craving for them to be punished…

"I don't think I can do it." It was the truth. Harry sat and felt a strange mix of the admiration Scott always felt around Charles and resentment because he couldn't do what the man was asking.

Xxxxxxxx

"What's that?" Scott's face was scrunched up in confusion as he asked the question. He and Harry were sitting side by side on the floor in front of the television, Harry's hand gripping his.

"The tiny men are singing now," Harry said, just holding back a giggle.

"Why?" But Scott had tilted his head, listening to the song.

"Dunno," Harry answered, threading his fingers through Scott's absentmindedly. He considered trying to send a picture of the little men to Scott but his control of that still wasn't great. He'd accidently sent Charles some rather nasty images from a nightmare he'd had the last time he'd tried it.

Scott leaned into him. "What's happening now?"

Harry smiled a bit and described, in as much detail as he could what was happening on the screen.

Xxxxxxx

He had nightmares a lot and he knew he wasn't the only one. He was getting used to waking up with a start, terror making his heart beat fast, the picture of his uncle standing over him with some sort of weapon still fresh in his mind.

Half the time, Charles would be there since Harry had moved into the mansion. It all depended, he guessed, on if Charles would wake and hear him. Two weeks after he had moved in, he'd woken up alone.

Harry lay on his bed for a while, trying to calm down. He rolled over, tried to go to sleep as well but couldn't. It wasn't a surprise. Usually, he wouldn't be able to after a nightmare. But usually, he'd be locked in the cupboard at his uncle's house. This time, he wasn't.

Chewing his lip, and feeling terrible, he got out of the large bed and headed for the door, hesitating after opening it and looking down the hall towards Scott and Charles rooms. He'd been fine alone before, really. He'd been alone a long time.

But he didn't want to be alone at that moment. It was almost a need that welled up in him. To not be alone. He went to Scott's room first but was frustrated when he found it empty. Chewing his lip again, he considered going back to his own or maybe going downstairs to find a book or something.

But…his feet seemed to move on their own and he'd opened Charles' door before he could second guess himself again. Charles and Scott were both asleep in the large bed. He'd walked over to the side of the bed before he hesitated again. He was nine, after all. He shouldn't be scared of some stupid dream.

"It's alright to be afraid sometimes," Charles said suddenly, opening his eyes and breaking Harry out of the thought. "You can sleep here tonight if you wish."

Harry only hesitated a second longer before he clambered up into the bed, onto the side that Scott wasn't on. Charles ran a hand through his hair and the protectiveness and familial love that he felt coming off the man had a warmth invading his own chest. He fell back asleep easier than he would have thought.

Xxxxxxxx

It was laughter, coming from the side yard that drew his attention. Erik had been in a sour mood when the taxi had first pulled up on the mansion. His leads had gotten him nowhere, as usual. He supposed he should have been getting used to that by now.

He'd been gone for nearly two months but was still fuming as the taxi drove off and he started up the long path to the front door. It was when he'd stopped short at the noise. Putting aside, for the moment at least, thoughts on his crusade, he set his bag on Charles front steps before going out to the side yard.

The sight there froze him in his tracks. Charles was running around the large yard, being chased by two small children. All three of them were laughing as Charles allowed the boys to tackle him to the ground.

Erik could not help but to be amused. Charles usually perfectly groomed hair was a mess, sticking up wildly, and his clothes were grass stained and disheveled. Charles, of course noticed him, without even looking over, after a moment and when he met Erik's gaze, his smile was bright, happy, and relieved.

"Erik!" He called, his tone matching his expression and Erik smiled at the sight of him. He supposed he may have always been surprised at the way Charles eyes lit up on sight of him but he was more so when Harry's did the same.

Charles stood as Harry ran over to Erik, following at a slower pace with Scott who, Erik noted, still had his eyes closed.

"Where'd you go?" Harry blurted out before Charles could greet him properly, staring up at him with curious eyes.

"…A few places," Erik answered a bit reluctantly, unwilling to admit to a child what he did when he wasn't at the mansion.

Harry stared up at him for another moment, head tilted a bit. "Are you staying?"

"For a while, I suppose."

Harry seemed to accept this after a moment and nodded. "Okay." He turned his gaze on Charles. "Can we go get something to eat?"

"Of course."

Harry grinned, grabbed Scott's hand and dragged the other boy with him towards the house.

Xxxxxxxx

"I am glad you're back," Charles said, still smiling at Erik after the children had disappeared inside. He'd moved closer to Erik, just outside of his personal space and Erik smirked a bit.

"I see you have been adjusting to this situation well," he said. He reached forward and picked a leaf from Charles' hair.

"Yes, well…" Charles smile stayed in place but Erik's amusement rose when his cheeks turned just a bit red. He certainly didn't mind that Charles would smile at him like that, even if it did surprise him. "You must be hungry as well?"

"I'm fine, Charles-"

"Nonsense. I bet you haven't eaten since you arrived in the state." It was a statement and Erik raised an eyebrow.

"You're not snooping again, are you Charles?"

"No, I do believe I've just gotten to know you, Erik." He gripped Erik's shoulder briefly and then motioned him inside. Erik followed with a shake of his head and remembered again why he always came back here.

Xxxxxxx

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Harry froze for a moment at the sound of the voice before turning to Erik, giving him a somewhat sheepish look. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted. He had actually been planning on maybe heading to Scott's room.

"Ah, so you are roaming the halls?"

"I'm not roaming." Harry pouted just a bit but followed Erik when the man started towards the living room.

"Then what would you call it?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just couldn't sleep." He paused when Erik sat down in one of the chairs but didn't sit himself. "You're really staying?"

Erik sighed. "As I said, for a while."

Harry nodded, watching him "Charles is happier when you're here," he stated, as a fact.

Erik raised an eyebrow at that, a faint hint of surprise in his expression. "Is he?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He's…brighter." It was the only way he could describe it. The feel of Charles' mind was always brighter when Erik was around. "I think he wants you to stay forever."

"Does he?" And there was more than surprise in his voice at those words.

"Uh huh." Harry grabbed the book he'd been reading earlier from the table in front of Erik. "I'm going to go read in bed or something." He started out of the room. "I think you should stay too," he added, just before he left, heading towards his room, leaving Erik to his thoughts and those revelations.


End file.
